


Off The Charts

by Missy



Category: Calamity Jane (1953), Galavant (TV)
Genre: Bars and Pubs, Chance Meetings, Crack, Established Relationship, F/F, Friendship, Pep talks, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-24
Updated: 2019-08-24
Packaged: 2020-10-01 18:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,187
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20371495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Missy/pseuds/Missy
Summary: Katie and Calam think their trip to England for Bill's Wild West show will be a piece of cake - until, that is, they get lost in a mysterious forest and wander up to an unusual pub.  A somewhat miserable stranger, though, might have some answers.





	Off The Charts

The invitation came from Bill four days after she and Katie had set up domestic housekeeping. Calamity had considered burning the contract, but when Katie’s big eyes lit up with joy at the notion of traveling the world with Bill’s little tour, she shrugged and said yes. It’d be worth enduring the whole mess of Bill and his existence to bring a little joy into Katie’s life.

They crossed America twice, did shows in Canada and Mexico, before the prospect of an ocean voyage loomed before them. Calam had never been to England before, but Katie had always wanted to go there, and since Calamity had in turn never been on a boat – and honestly didn’t want to let her best friend alone in America while she did Bill one last favor and travelled around with his Wild West Show – she agreed to help.

“Only ‘cause you don’t have anyone to look after those purty dresses,” Calamity said. Katie – under her real name, with her own talents – hadn’t quite reached the level of fame that she’d temporarily possessed as . 

“Calam, you’ll make a great bodyguard,” Katie had said. Together they packed her trunk, and together they prepared for the boat. By the time they were in England, on a hired cart headed into the wonder of London, they were both a little merry. They wanted to see and do everything together, which was simple enough to do when they were two women alone in a great big city.

The rest of Ireland and Scotland went the same way. And then they were on the road to a very tiny kingdom in a very out-of-the-way place in the hinterlands of England. Someplace called Valencia, according to the old map they’d picked up a few miles from the main road out of Brixton.

Of course, they were always in the mood to sing.

And singing they went into the green and brown of the forest, arms linked as if through eternity, big smiles on their faces as Calamity drove the horses and kept them happily trotting along. They didn’t notice when the signposts got very confusing until they were confusing. And when Calamity could no longer recognize the road back, when Katie’s nervousness was on her sleeve like a drawn frown, when they both knew they were in deep trouble, then they both looked at each other and tried to figure out where they were.

The map told them nothing.

“Huh,” Calamity scratched her brow and raised her eyes toward Katie. “I don’t reckon what’s happening. Looks like we took a wrong turn off the main road but there ain’t a non-main road to follow!”

Katie frowned. “Well, I never was one for directions,” she said. “I guess we should keep going until we find another human soul to get some answers from.”

It was a decent point, and the only sensible advice they could conjure to mind. So Calamity and Katie kept the carriage moving until they came to a stream.

“The Crossover Stream,” Katie read aloud as they stopped the carriage and let the horses drink and enjoy the lush grass growing around the banks. She climbed down from the carriage, frowned and shaded her eyes from the glaring sunlight. “But I don’t see where the stream crosses over.” She peered in the opposite direction. “Can you see anything at all, Calam?”

“Not from the west side,” she said. But then she pointed at what looked like an inn, situated at the opposite side of the stream. 

“Do you think we can ford it?” Katie asked.

“I’ve forded smaller and shorter streams in my day,” Calam said. In fact, she ended up leading the rested and refreshed horses by her teeth across the river, then came out to tie them out looking none the worse for wear even though she was soaked to the bone.

Together, they walked into the inn – damp, a tad worse for wear, but still alive. The first thing Calamity noticed was that the entire establishment was filled with men in leather get-ups with not a lady in sight. But since no one spoke up to pay her any mind, Calamity calmly moseyed inside, and then sat Katie up at the bar and then took an empty seat next to a fellow in some kind of wool get-up, who had been disconsolately swiping at the bartop with a clean rag.

She poked him with the tip of her finger. “’Scuse me, Mister – do you know how to get to Eastham from this place?”

He turned toward her and nearly poked her right between the ribs with the handle of his sword. “It’s four miles back through the woods, and you shouldn’t have any problem getting out. The lady who runs this place doesn’t care for other women hanging around.” He cocked his head in the direction of the beautiful blonde woman who apparently had the run of the place.

Calamity leaned toward the man. “How long have you been here?”

“Four long months! It’s interrupted my hero’s journey,” he said. 

Calamity leaned in closer. “And I’m guessing that you aren’t staying behind because you chose it?”

He shook his head. 

“What Is this place?” she wondered, taking a wide-eyed look at the world around her. 

“It’s The Enchanted Forest Pub,” he said. “You’re in West Hollow-wood.”

“West Hollow-wood.” Calam weighed the words thoughtfully on her tongue. “Is that close to Signal Hilldale?”

“Not far,” said the man miserably.

Calamity shot the “Why don’t I distract her?” Calamity asked.

“How are you going to do that?” the man whispered.

Calam shrugged, pulled out her gun, and then shot all the bottles lined up at the bar sitting in front of them.

She’d guessed correctly that they’d never seen a lady trick shot artist before. 

In the confusion, they’d not only led the gentleman to freedom but many other men. Katie had saved herself and was waiting in the carriage when Calam dodged an axe on her way out the door.

“Hold on to your bustle,” Calamity shouted, flicking the horses into motion.

They didn’t stop until they rejoined the main road – were far from the queen’s domain. Only then did Calamity sit back with a huff.

“I’m sorry, Katie - I didn’t mean to get them all riled up, just get that man out of trouble. I don’t think you even got to finish your rapberry cordial!” said Calamity.

“You did the right thing,” Katie said, climbing back up onto the front buckboard and kissing Calamity’s cheek. “He even left us a note.” She handed Calamity a heavily creased piece of pale bark with berry juice writing on it.

“Well, how did he manage that?” Calamity wondered.

“He mentioned something about being a poet on the side,” she said. “Did he leave you a real poem?”

“It says,” Calamity said with some pride, ”if I ever need a favor if I’m in the kingdom of Valencia to look up Sid.”

She made a mental note of it as they headed toward the twinkling lights of Eastham, where Bill and the rest of the troupe waited.


End file.
